Phobos' Tea Party
by PhobosStyle
Summary: A fanfic for a game I'm playing in.  All characters presented are either PC's or NPC's.  Phobos is my character and decides to have a little tea party and invites his friends to his dark and foreboding temple of horror...


**Phobos' Tea Party**

The odd invitation came to the others inscribed on a silken like paper with an elegant trim of black velvet around the borders. In a shadowy black ink was inscribed in cheerful penmanship

_"To all my dear friends: I invite you to a tea party (or hot chocolate!) at my inner sanctum in the Novendrica Temple to celebrate our recent victories. Sumptuous treats and delicious tea shall be served."_

It was from Phobos. Everyone knew that to get to the inner sanctum in the Novendrica Temple was like running a gauntlet of fear, terror, and fear laced horror. Yet for reasons each their own, along with the help of direct access courtesy of Rook's TARDIS, Phobos' companions decided to humor their quirky companion. So together Alice, Lily, Walter, Shinji, and Rook set off for a dubious afternoon tea at Phobos' inner sanctum.

Arriving directly the group of five were surprised at the sight awaiting them. The cold and unforgiving stone floors, walls, and ceilings had been set with decorations. It was obvious that Phobos had attempted to cover as much of the insidiousness that pervaded every inch of the Novendrica Temple in order to make his companions feel at ease, but the results did not do much to alleviate the effect. A carpet of rich, dark red gave off the warmth of drying blood, while the torches that normally spotted the walls had replaced by elegant sconces inlaid with gold filigree while the golden light seemed to cause ominous shadows to dance along the walls.

Everyone sat at a large metal table covered by a white satin cloth that attempted to be elegant and calming but emanated all the comfort of a burial shroud. Six places had been set for the group with an ornate bell sitting next to a folded piece of paper. Deftly picking up the obvious missive from their host, Rook began to read in his steady voice,

_"My friends, something has gone amiss in the lower levels of the temple that requires my urgent and immediate attention. I shall be along presently and insist that you begin despite my tardiness. You need only ring the bell and my servant shall get things started. Please try not to feel uncomfortable at his presence. He is under orders to assist in any way possible so do not hesitate to ask. Your servant, Phobos."_

With a smile Rook carefully set the missive back down next to the bell. "Well I think I know where my Jane Austin books disappeared to. I think we should wait a while and see if Phobos manages to wrap things up quickly."

Walter replied smoothly, "I don't mind a quick wait. Though Phobos might have expected things to take a while so we shouldn't wait too long."

"I don't know that drinking the tea served by Phobos' servant is going to be a good thing. I'm soooooo not drinking it first," came the cautious yet resolute reply from the red-headed Lily.

"I don't want to wait too long. I was promised Hot Chocolate, and it'd be rude to make me wait too long!" came the slightly sullen reply from the chocolate craving Alice.

"The décor is a bit unsettling to say the least," said Shinji.

After a brief but light conversation the party concluded that whatever Phobos was attending to had caught his attention for the time being, and after drawing straws decided that Walter should ring the bell. A few moments hesitation with his hand poised above the bell; Walter eventually managed to overcome the paranoia that seemed to creep into and gave the bell several rings. The sound of dishes clinking together lightly echoed down the halls, increasing audibly as the nameless servant got closer. A formless shadow carrying a large tray entered the room and began to set the table. Six spots were set and a cup of tea, or hot chocolate, was poured for all in attendance. Each guest was given a small serving of cakes, scones, and biscuits to accompany their drink of choice. As the friends all prepared to enjoy this repast the servant suddenly produced a box with an envelope on top and handed it to Rook. Deftly opening the envelope Rook read the letter aloud,

_"Accompanying this letter is a music box I came across while wandering the wilds of Novendrica, please enjoy it in my absence."_

A cake halfway to her mouth stopped suddenly in Lily's hand. "NO! No way am I going to listen to some creepy music box while eating food that looks delicious and creepy at the same time."

"It's not like Phobos would do anything to harm us," Walter replied, "I don't think he would've given us something he hadn't used himself."

"I'm not liking where this is going," Shinji said while nervously looking about.

"C'mon guys, we haven't even seen what it looks like," came Alice's curious reply.

As if in answer to her statement Rook removed the music box from its wrappings and set it in the center of the table for all to see.

It stood there with an ominous air hanging around it. Stained oak faded with age carved with elegant trim and adorned with a miniature stone castle on top and a small slightly rusted brass key jutting out from the side. The air around the music box seemed to hang with a creeping dread that waited patiently for those curious enough to turn the key. Whispers seemed to surround each of the guests, and while nothing audible could be heard each was left with an impression of an exchange.

Surprisingly it was Lily who reached out first, and when her strong yet delicate fingers reached the key Rook began to hold out his hand to stop her, but then thought better of it. Lily hesitated a few moments, and then deftly turned the key until the resistance from the internal mechanism signaled that it had been thoroughly wound.

Each of the companions looked at each other silently, wondering if what they had "heard" was noticed by the others. Only the dreadful lilting of metallic tines filled the air, each note a harmonious assault that dulled senses further and further as the five silently and politely enjoyed their tea and crumpets.

**Candy Dance**

Alice found herself skipping along on this beautiful day with Chesh close at hand. The sky was a ruddy and dull purple pock-marked with smoke gray clouds while the townsfolk went about their business trying desperately to be nonchalant and draw notice to themselves. This was fine to Alice, nothing could ruin her day. She had Chesh, the temperature was mild and pleasant, and the only thing out of place was the smell. It was wrong again. 'Ah well,' she thought to herself, 'I guess you can't have it all, right Chesh?'

Chesh responded with a wide grin showing all his wicked teeth, laced with mischievousness.

Alice's reverie was shattered when she bumped into something and fell roughly to the ground, rumpling her dress, while a dousing of ice-cold water soaked her head to toe. Alice looked up angrily to see a frightened old man frozen where he stood; at his feet lay the bucket he had used to draw water from the well, completely unaware of Alice until she had run into him.

"Chesh," commanded Alice, "This HORRIBLE man has made cross!" The poor nameless soul quivered with terror as prey before the predator, his ears tuned to her every word. "I WANT CHOCOLATE!" Alice cried out in a loud voice, eyes shut against the tears that forced their way out because of the hurt _that_ man had caused.

The poor old man let out a chocked gasp of fright as he stumbled over himself in an attempt to escape. Chesh with his unchanging demonic smile crouched and ready himself for the pounce. A few swipes of his tail were all that anyone would see, if they had paid attention and not busied themselves elsewhere, before he leapt with great menace. Claws raked and gouged, spilling blood and tearing chunks of flesh as the old man cried out in pain and fear. As the blood hit the ground it ceased to be blood, running darker and thicker until it became a syrup, filling the air with a coppery sweet scent. Every chunk of flesh became a sugary delight, the whole scene a bloody pinata shredded to pieces and scattering about gory confections.

Alice watched with starry-eyed wonder before picking herself up and straightening out her dress. She gingerly reached down and plucked a particularly large round piece off of the ground and popped it into her mouth. "Mmmmmmmm!" She smiled with delight, "Warm cherry cordial, my favorite!" Happily she tossed a still-warm piece of candy to Chesh who swallowed the whole thing with an audible gulp; he then began to lap at one of the many small pools of syrup while purring loudly.

The girl didn't seem to notice the syrup that had stained her dress and face as she began to collect the chocolates before sitting down next to her furry companion and the unrecognizable remains. She lovingly caressed his fur while eating chocolates and dipping her fingers into the delectable syrup. "The chocolate here is very good Chesh, but I want more! You said you would teach me a secret to give me all the candy I want!" The cat suddenly appeared on her shoulder and started whispering in her ear. Alice's eyes grew wide with astonishment, and her face began to shift towards excitement.

Suddenly she stood up, Chesh dropping lithely from her shoulder. "Listen up everybody!" Alice shouted excitedly, "If you run then the candy will be delicious! So run run run, fast as you can, cause you can't escape the Candy Dance!"

Without another word Alice began to step back and forth lightly in a pattern known only to her. Steps became hops, twirls and turns. No rhythm dictated the steps or movements, both hypnotic and disorderly. Onlookers that fled the gruesome scene found themselves compelled to return, and those who had been completely unaware a few moments prior turned and moved toward a lilting melody only they could hear.

As they approached the giggling, twirling, dancing girl she began to move her arms. Long and short, quick and slow, as though conducting a symphony of some ghoulish orchestra it began. Ribbons of flesh pealed from the townsfolk and fell to the earth as liquorice, eyes became cordials, tongues wound into taffy, innards dropped to the earth as sweet meats, and everywhere blood rained as syrup, fizzy drinks, and juice. As the dance came to a close the only sound to be heard was the innocent giggling and laughter of a girl showered by her heart's desires.

Alice was slow to come around, the pounding in her head overshadowed by the nausea in her stomach. Wiping her hand against her mouth she felt it covered with chocolate, and taking a step back she lurched to the ground and vomited violently. She was in her room, and straining her eyes to see brought visions of empty candy wrappers lying about in ruddy pools. Unable to withstand the waves of nausea combined with the pounding in her head Alice gave herself to unconsciousness. The last words to echo in her mind, words that would ring for years to come, came dripping with poisoned honey, "Enjoy your tea and I shall teach you a dance to shower yourself with candy..."

**Acceptance**

Her sleep was restless. Tossing and turning about, the slender form of indescribable beauty longed for the temporary release of sleep's oblivion. Fire streaked hair clung to a frame drenched in sweat as Lily sat upright, gasping for breath as the last vestiges of a nightmare flew from her waking mind. She looked her window at the pre-dawn light. It had been two months since her escape from the Udo prison and she had found a moments rest. The day was filled with furtive glances over her shoulder and into each and every shadow that crossed her path while sleep brought nothing but nightmares to shread away any semblance of rest she might find. "Will it always be like this?" She asked herself aloud, "The prey of nightmares or hunted by the creators of savage immoral beasts?"

Despair welled up inside her, images of what she had done arose unbidden. It took an effort of will to keep it all down before it consumed her. "For now," she told herself, "this town has looked out for me, given me food and shelter, and asked nothing in return." Disgusted with herself for being an invalid to people who were so blind to the cruelties of the world Lily began to get ready for the day. Looking out the door of the mostly empty shack she watched them go about their day, blissfully ignorant of the atrocities that were committed in the world. She envied them.

Lily went about the town trying to help wherever she could. The people smiled sympathetically at her and told her that she needed the rest more than they needed the help. They were just coddling her because she looked like a child. Why she was powerful enough that this village would be a smoking husk before they knew what had happened. Lily stopped herself and tried very hard to bring her anger under control. These people have done nothing but look out for her. Nausea filled her stomach and she almost fell to the ground except that she was caught by one of the villagers. A smiling face shined through all the toil of a lifetime in the field. He helped her to a nearby tree stump to sit down. "Carry those demons of yours for too long and they'll consume you little Missy," the old man kindly chided. "We all have things we'd like to forget about, memories that'll haunt ya till the day ye die. Sometimes the only way to get by is to let go."

She looked at him with a mixture of hope and resentment. Part of her desperately wanted to believe that there was something worthwhile inside; instead she chided herself for even thinking that what she had done could be forgiven. Forgiven! Did this old doddering fool really believe that such a monstrosity like her could be in the same presence as such a concept?

Lily forced a smile at the kindly old man and assured him she would be ok. As he moved on a sort of melancholy descended upon her. Shoulders slumped forward she began to make her way back to the hut in a vain attempt to try and get some rest, not that she deserved it. A distant cry from the other side of the village brought her to sharp focus. Bandits!

Lily dashed through town, anxiety and desperation giving her an almost unnatural speed. It didn't take her long to reach the spot where bandits had begun to raid the village. Townsfolk scattered as carnage began to descend. Without even thinking Lily sprang into action, taking the nearest bandits by surprise. Quick and deft movements with surgical precision made short work of any who would dare to harm these people! What few attacks they managed to make against her were sloppy and left not a single cut upon her. With the knowledge that a dangerous foe opposed them the bandits fled into the woods. Lily counted their numbers, studied their faces, and seethed.

She couldn't stop it, stop them, or the anger welling up inside her. A conflagration that would consumer her if she did not consume them. What right did they have to prey up on these good and decent people? Who said that these thieves and brigands could escape justice? Her form began to grow and stretch. Skin turned to rows of scales, her jaw extended outward into a muzzle of gnashing teeth while wings grew and stretched out from her back. In less than a few moments where Lily stood was a terrifying dragon with a sheen of red vengeance wiped across it's scales.

She leapt into the air, flapping her wings as she flew across the land. The hunt had begun. These things that were less than men would receive their terrible justice this day! She would hunt them, and then destroy them. Preying upon them as they had preyed upon so many others. It was only fitting after all.

It wasn't until nightfall that her games came to a close. Bloodlust faded away from her eyes until her keen senses caught the distinct smell of fire. Panic replaced fury and Lily began a desperate race back to the village. Though it wasn't far away the day of hunting coupled with the exhaustion that had plagued her these past two months made each intervening mile feel like a hundred.

By the time she arrived back at the village it was too late. The corpses of the villagers were strewn about, killed where their attackers had run them down. No one had been spared, they had all been hunted in what felt like a mocking of the justice she tried to enact that day. She had failed. Nothing remained to mark that a village had been here aside from the charred remains of every home. This place was a message. It was a message that they could and would hunt her like the beast she was. They would destroy those who would harbor her without mercy. All she knew was that she had to keep moving. Rest might be a luxury she could be lucky enough to experience someday in the future, but that would be all. Even a beast like her didn't deserve that much. The only memory that survives of that night is running. Blind running in a direction, any direction. It didn't matter where, they would hunt her wherever she goes.

Lily woke with a start. It had been some time since her failure at the village. Glancing around her room as though the phantoms of the past were ready to leap out at any moment her eyes caught sight of something. The wood flooring near her bed had been burned. It took only a few moments to recognize the pattern as letters, and as she read the words her face went pale. It simply said,

"We will find you"

**Weaving the World**

The ground was soft and wet, and Walter slowly opened his eyes. The early morning light shown through a smattering a clouds and as Walter sat up he couldn't remember where he was or how he got here. A brief glance around confirmed that his surroundings were not the usual place he chose to wake up, but before Walter could begin to figure out what had happened a glimmer caught his eye.

It was an odd little thing, a sliver of silver that shimmered as the sun kissed the morning dew. He reached over and picked up what turned out to be a rather large and awkward needle. It shimmered gently in his hand, seeming to glitter with hints of gold amongst silver of an alloy that he couldn't quite place. As he held the needle Walter began to feel that itch to create, masterful tailor that he was, and knew that this instrument for all it's impracticality was intended to create a masterpiece!

Without knowing why Walter stood and began to wonder about the land; the driving need to create had replaced his earlier disorientation. Everywhere that he went Walter's inspiration couldn't be contained, and he turned low quality fabrics into priceless treasures and works of art. Eventually he happened upon a great kingdom where his skill was quickly noticed by the king in his castle on a hill. Before he knew what had happened Walter found himself standing in the King's court with a crowd of nobles calling, begging, for him to make them something grand. The clamoring continued until the king held up his hand in a gesture for silence. All in attendance quieted, and when the King spoke his voice was soft but commanding.

"Oh tailor of great skill," the king began, "much has been said of all you have created. Truly it seems as if nothing issued from your hands could be anything but art." Many expectant faces in the crowd could be seen nodding their agreement. "I ask you services in the creation of a great tapestry. Something that captures the majesty and wonder of a bygone age. To gaze upon it would leave one in awe. Can you do such a thing?"

Walter thought for but a moment before he replied confidently, "I can do such a thing, and it will be grander and more majestic than even you could imagine! However, the cost of such an undertaking is very high indeed."

"I will pay whatever cost you require should your claim be true," spoke the king. Although he would be true to his word, something inside him felt uneasy. It was as though the price would be too high.

With bright eyes and a cheerful grin Walter declared to all, "It is done then! I shall set to the task immediately. Tonight the moon shall rise full, and after a full cycle when it comes full again I shall stand before you once more," and with that he turned on his heels and strode out the door.

He knew what to do, as though it had always been there waiting for him to realize it. He made his way straight to the Omega gate not even realizing he suddenly knew his way there. Once there he headed out into that pool of worlds where everything existed in its own way and time. After a few days of searching Walter came across what he was looking for.

He stood upon a mountaintop where the wind twirled around him. It sang through the peaks and crags in a song both haunting and beautiful. Below him stretching far and wide was a land that defied reason. Mountains gave way to waterfalls that cascaded into rivers. Those very rivers flowed through hills and valleys, under trees and over plains where they finally came to rest in lakes that bled out into oceans.

As he descended the mountains his hand grasped the needle and began to move furiously. Walter seemed to be unaware that he possessed no thread or fabric, and yet a tapestry still began to issue forth from his hands. Over all the mountains he went, trudging through the cold snows and listening to the wind sing its songs. When he reached the tops of the hills he stood in appreciative silence while listening to the waterfall tell him secrets of ages long since passed, his hands never stopping their ceaseless work. Eventually he turned to the forests, hills, and valleys, each with their own beauty.

He continued his journey in this same manner, eventually traveling to villages, towns, and kingdoms. From each he learned all that he could. He heard all the songs, knew all the histories, the heroes and villains, the tragedies and triumphs. All of this he listened to and absorbed as his hands worked, weaving a true epic from nowhere and everywhere.

When all was said and done Walter found himself back through the Omega gate and across the wilds to the kingdom with an unremembered name. Not once did he think of how he got there or where he was, his purpose and quest nearly at a close. Again he stood before the King and his court, their attention locked upon him as he began to reveal a masterpiece worthy of legend.

"I hold for you a world made of legend and myth! The sights, sounds, and smells of a realm so fantastical it can scarcely be believed!" With help from the King's retainers he unfurled the giant tapestry. It was as wider than the table in the great dining hall, and tall enough that it would reach from the floor to the ceiling in the castle's entryway. Upon it was a scene filled with mountains looking below into a world with hills and forests, waterfalls and rivers, villages and kingdoms. So great was the tapestry that it was difficult to place each image on the fabric, as though the world shifted while being gaze.

A collective gasp escaped the crowd. All who looked upon it felt drawn in, as if exploring another world. The silken folds shimmered in the light and billowed gently; even though there was no breeze. When the fabric was held it seemed to pour across the hands like water flowing across stone. The longer you gazed the more you felt like you could hear the voices in the towns, or feel the mist kicked up by the waterfalls cascade.

So entranced was the court that they hardly noticed Walter's approach to the king. "Does his majesty find my work to be acceptable?"

His eyes still locked upon it he replied, "It is more than acceptable, it is incredible! Where did you find the inspiration for such a scene?"

Happily came the reply, "The world it came from is no more, now it exists only as a memory."

Waking from what felt like a dream Walter found himself back in his room. He shook his head a few times to clear away the grogginess, then moved over to a water basin on his dresser. After splashing his face with water his eyes caught sight of a large and impractical needle next to the basin, shimmering in the light of the dawn and made of some mysterious alloy of silver and gold.

**Decisions**

He stood there looking at the candle light, entranced by its flames. He couldn't remember how he got here, only that he is here. Was here. Has always been here. The room around him was dark, and the only thing he could see was the small round table suspended on a single leg that branched into three claw-like feet. The only decoration on this table was a single yellow candle in a holder made of brass and carved into the likeness of a gargoyle with it's mouth holding the candle straight up.

Shinji shook his head and tried to remember. Everything was foggy and in a dreamlike state. Nothing came to his mind, but everything was there. Wait, that didn't make sense. It was as if he was dry as a bone swimming in the middle of an ocean.

The more he tried to make sense of it the more it threatened to overwhelm him. Was this some weird prison? Was he trapped somewhere? Shinji turned to walk away and found himself standing on the other side of the table. Shocked by this but still determined Shinji turned so that the table was parallel to him and tried to walk away; only to find himself standing on the opposite edge from where he started.

Now he was getting annoyed.

Suddenly there was a blinding glare of daylight before it disappeared with a sound like a door closing. A breathless moment passed before Shinji heard footsteps approaching. As the footsteps entered the glow of the candle Shinji was able to get a good look at the man. He stood a little taller than him and wore all black, except for a wide white stripe on his coat. Adorning his head was a wide brimmed black hat that kept his blond hair from falling in front of his eyes.

"It is refreshing to stretch my legs and step outside for once," said the mysterious man in his tortuous melodic voice.

A name sprung to mind. _Yuber!_

Shinji began to remember. "How the hell did you get out!" Shinji demanded, blood rushing to his temples as his anger grew. "What have you done?"

Yuber gave him a golden smile and practically sang, "Why Shinji, what-ev-er do you mean?"

With a ferocity he did not normally display Shinji shot back, "You know damn well what I mean you bastard! This is different than before. What happened? Why did I suddenly get pulled here?"

Mirth danced in Yuber's eyes. "My poor Shinji, you kept me cooped up for way too long. I needed to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. It's bad for both of us to keep me locked up like a prisoner. As for this place? Well, it's my gift to you. A favor returned to you for keeping me locked up inside your head for so long. So tell me, how does it feel? Do you like it?"

"You forced your way in and then continued along for the ride long past wearing out your welcome! If you're a prisoner in my head then the accommodations are better than you deserve!"

"Tsk tsk!" Yuber chided, "You treat yourself poorly when you like this. Do you really hate yourself that much?"

Shinji paused for a moment, confusion written across his face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you know? We're one and the same, you and I. You are the hero of legends, the do-gooder, the one who saves the world. I am only the rest of you, the who you truly are deep down where legends cannot touch."

Shinji stood wide eyed and breathless, disbelief at what he was being told. "I am NOTHING like you!" he bellowed, "You and I are not alike in any way! Your brain must be pretty messed up if you could think that at all!"

Yuber smiled gently and shook his head. "You still don't understand do you? You, Shinji, are the hero of legend. Yours is a great destiny; one in which you help save the world. It is a beautiful thing that people will write stories of and remember you for. But it is only half."

"Half?" came the short but incredulous response from Shinji.

"Yes half," Yuber continued, "I am that other part of you that must not be. I am your darker side. I am the delight you hold in slaughter. The silent laughter pushed to the back of your mind as you drive your sword up to the hilt in your enemies rapidly cooling corpse. The bliss felt as you realize you are unstoppable. I am what could have been, and might still be if I have my way."

Shinji knew that Yuber was playing a game. It wasn't the first time he had done this. Shinji eye Yuber warily and both began to stalk each other around the table like predators waiting for the other to strike. "You invaded my mind, and you'll never have control."

The way that Yuber smiled caught Shinji off guard. It was a patronizing smile, like he knew something that Shinji didn't. "Of course, you're absolutely correct without any chance of doubt. The only thing I have to say on that is this: just try to tell her that."

Shinji didn't have long to be surprised before Yuber continued mocking him, his words dripping like honeyed poison, "Deny it as you might we are one, and the only reason why you have control is because of a coin toss, nothing more. If I had my way then things would be very different. As it is though I must yield to your...superior might."

Yuber curtsied mockingly to Shinji before he gestured off towards the darkness. A line of daylight appeared and slowly grew to become a doorway. "I have taken enough of your time, oh mighty one. You are free to leave and I am free to watch and enjoy. She will be missed."

"Who...?" Shinji started to ask, but as daylight filled the room he found himself fighting against the pull that would drag him out again. Yuber smiled an evil smile as Shinji desperately tried to fight his way to him in an attempt to get more information. Just as he was about to grasp Yuber's lapels there came a great rushing sound like water roaring through the caves under the earth.

There was a feeling like being slammed against a wall of feathers and Shinji found himself sitting upright in his bed; sunlight streaming through his window and casting the room in a warm glow. He felt like he had been running all night, and he would've gone back to sleep but the nightmare he woke from persisted in the back of his head.

Damn you Yuber! Shinji groaned and threw his legs over the side of the bed when two items on his nightstand caught his eye. It was a pair of scissors wrapped in a long lock of beautiful flaxen hair. He picked up both and gazed at the hair first. It was soft and scented with lilacs, and neatly tied up in a silk ribbon made of lavender. There was something pleasant about holding the lock and catching it's scent. Something peaceful.

What pleasantness he experienced quickly fled as his breath caught in his throat and his body was instantly covered in a cold sweat. He held the scissors in his hands and his heart beat loudly in his ears. They were unnecessarily large and old, time having weathered away any sheen they may have once possessed. The aspect that caused shivers to race down his spine was the brown coating towards the bottom. It was almost rust like except that it was hard to miss the bright crimson coating of the blades that was slowly drying and becoming the same color.

**Phobos Melody**

_Several days prior_

Phobos was wandering the misty void that was Novendrica. It brought him many different places all strange and fantastic. He had been searching for a way to increase his haunting powers. That ability that would let him turn the ordinary into terrifying, and thus ensure that Firma could always have bastions of fear to balance out the shrines of heroism.

The only other pursuit of any worth to him was his quest for Legend. Legendary fear. He would be that fear and exist in the hearts and minds of men for all time. Whether to dominate or be conquered, it was his destiny. Firma, nay, the universe itself needed fear. Without fear mortals would become complacent and stagnant. The trick was moderating too much from not enough. Creating bastions of fear would help ensure that tales of their existence would outlast however long the structures stood.

All this thinking of fear was making Phobos hungry. Being as the fear of others was the only thing that sustained him, he needed to make sure he kept to populated areas so he could feed off their fear. The sound of chanting in the distance caught his attention and he made his way towards it, using the power of The Wolf constellation to help conceal his movements.

Phobos came across a small clearing with a natural overhang creating something of an alcove in the earth. Surrounding this alcove were five men dressed in tribal vestments the like of which Phobos had never seen before. One of them was wearing a large wooden mask painted in green and blue with bright red runes etched upon it. It was this one that led the others in their alien chants. Their ritual was directed at a statue within the alcove, and Phobos nearly gave himself away when he realized that the statue was carved in his likeness.

While Phobos hadn't gone too far from his temple, he had never heard of there being any native tribes on Novendrica. Supposedly the southern-most continent was uninhabited. Apparently they were wrong, but why was there a statue of him there?

Phobos debated on the best course of action until he finally decided to withhold his aura of fear and step out of his hiding spot and see what happened.

The tribesmen turned around in shock, but when they laid eyes on him then fell to their knees and began bowing to him, calling out some weird word in their native tongue. Phobos looked on uncomfortably; while he wasn't surprised this hardly gave him any answers.

After a short period of time the shaman went over to the statue and picked up something that had been set at its feet. He brought it over and bowed before Phobos, setting it at his feet. Without rising he backed away slowly, and before Phobos could do anything the shaman disappeared along with the others into the tall grass that surrounded the natural alcove.

Phobos quickly picked up the wooden box that had been set before him without really looking at it, and then dashed after the tribesmen. Even though they had been there just a few scant moments before, the tribesmen seemed to have vanished. Phobos spent some time searching for them in a vain attempt to get some answers, but he was only left with the wooden box.

Phobos sat down cross-legged and more carefully examined the box. It was elegantly carved oak and beautifully stained, though clearly worn with age. Having missed the sculpture of a castle on top of it early, Phobos look carefully at it taking in every detail. It was like many of the castles that dotted the land of Bellendore, where he had spent many years, and it had been carved to give the impression that the castle had seen many years and had fallen into disrepair. The only other feature to the box was the small, rusted brass key on its side.

Curious about this odd offering Phobos turned the key. A slow lilting melody filled the air, laden with a haunting sadness that gave an unnatural chill to the air. Phobos could almost feel the words form in his mind as he listened to the tune. The notes spoke to him, telling him of a time when the two were as one. It told many terrifying tales of times long lost to history. Stories and histories of different empires that came and went before the current world took shape.

The music spoke to Phobos and told him that they were one and the same, different facets of the same gem. They would merge together and become one single facet, but not until others could hear the song. The more people that listened the stronger Phobos would become, but only those strong enough could give up their fears without being destroyed by them. Know you of anyone with such strength?

Phobos thought for a moment before the idea to try it on his friends came to the fore. They were all strong enough to withstand even his own fear aura, and they'd probably be upset if he just tried it on random people first. Perhaps it would be better if he asked them about it first.

It took Phobos a minute to realize that he was no longer sitting in the field. Somehow, someway he was back in his inner sanctum. Even more confusing was the table set before him. An old silk tablecloth, with plates of cookies and cakes. Even a tea set! In the middle of the table sat the music box, it's key winding slowly to a stop. The melody was no longer coherant.

"I don't keep these things in this place," Phobos said aloud and to no one, his confusion apparent.

Phobos called for his Dark Servant and asked it repeatedly about what had happened. His servant explained to him that he returned from the wilderness several days ago carrying the music box that now rested in the center of the table. Shortly thereafter Phobos called for a tea party and invited his closest friends: Alice, Lily, Walter, Shinji, and Rook. When the guests arrived Phobos was either sleeping or catatonic, but either way he couldn't be roused so the servant followed the commands Phobos had left him. After the tea was finished Phobos' friends left and went about their business just as Phobos awoke and went to meet them, and then Phobos summoned him.

Phobos was confused and anxious. Unsure of what happened he looked questioningly at the music box. He could swear it was laughing at him. Phobos sat there staring at it, not know whether he should destroy it or find a place for it in his temple.

**Visiting Hours**

"That's amazing! What happens next?" Carl excitedly encouraged his friend, Jon, to continue.

"You're going to love this one Rook, I saved the best for last! What do you think will happen?"

Carl smiled at his friend sympathetically, "Those are some pretty wild events that happened to the others, but I think Rook is capable of taking on whatever comes his way."

Jon chuckled with some dark mirth dancing in his eyes, obviously delighted to be spending time with his friend. "That's just the thing, I have a feeling that even Rook will be put off by this! Now, it all starts with Rook talking to..."

The door to Jon's room opened, interrupting what was to come next as the nurse walked in.

"I'm sorry Carl, but it's time for Jon's medicine, and he needs his rest." The nurse looked with great compassion and sympathy at both Carl and Jon.

"That's ok! Next week I'll tell you what happens Rook, you're going to love it!"

"I can't wait to hear about it Jon! See you next time!" Rook smiled at his friend a moment as the nurse began to strap him into his bed. Even though the walls of his cell were padded Jon was still capable of injuring himself during his episodes.

Once the nurse was done she gestured for Carl to leave and followed him out. Turning and locking the door behind her she spoke to Carl, "You know it's really very kind of you to come visit your friends like this. It really is the highlight of his week and one of the few times when he looks and sounds normal."

There was a hint of sadness in Carl's voice when he responded, "I only wish I could do more. Has his condition improved at all?"

"I'm afraid not. Although it hasn't gotten any worse since you started visiting."

"It's the least I could do. How about the others? Can I see any of them? Jon's stories this week have me worried."

The nurse visibly paled for a moment, her reply coming somewhat strained, "I...don't think that would be a good idea."

Anxiously Carl asked, "I have to know, how bad are they?"

With a heavy sigh the nurse began explained, "We found Stacie attempting to torture the other patients and had to confine her to an isolated cell."

Carl looked crestfallen.

"Jack took a turn for the worst. We thought his depression was starting to improve and had decided to let him wander about a bit more. There was a sound of a window shattering and the orderlies got their just as he was about to cut his own wrists. We have him sedated for the time being, and we're going to keep him under watch while he has thirty-seven stitches in both his hands and arms.

Carl's heart sank even further. "What about Michael? He seemed to be doing better."

"Michael is currently restrained after he started talking about voices that told him to eat the other patients. He managed to tear a large chunk of flesh out of Rezkin before we could restrain him. The others refuse to go near him."

"I'm almost afraid to ask about Erik."

With a heavy heart the nurse answered, "I'm sorry Carl, but we had to sedate Erik. At first we thought he was schizophrenic, but in the past week his symptoms have been pointing towards borderline-personality disorder. We didn't expect him to assault the orderly that brought him his lunch, and it took three more to restrain him long enough for Dr. Mandeep to sedate him after he forcibly ripped out Angela's hair with one pull." The nurse shuddered, visibly shaken by the memory.

"Angela will be ok. She's a little shaken but seems to be glad that Erik didn't hurt himself. She cares more about his safety than her own I think. Poor child. She's still completely devoted to him."

The nurse looked up, trying to shake the memory off, and noticed that Carl was visibly restraining himself. She wondered how anyone could have the will to come visit their friends each week and talk to them as though nothing had changed. It amazed her how he could still bring a little bit of happiness from that normal life they all once knew. Her heart was breaking inside at watching Carl suffer like this every time he came her and she vowed, as she always did, to make sure to watch over the group until his next visit.

Another nurse approached the pair and spoke to Carl, "Dr. Tenbur is wrapping up his last appointment for the day, he says he'll meet you at the usual spot for drinks."

"Thanks, tell him I'll be along in a few minutes. I'd like to say good night to my friends."

"Of course," the messenger replied, "Visiting hours end in about ten minutes as usual. I'll let Dr. Tenbur know that you've been informed."

Carl watched the nurse leave and went about saying a silent goodnight to his friends before leaving Firma Sanitorium for the evening knowing he'd be back again the following week.


End file.
